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tampered2007-02-18 12:30 pm
bitingnightmare.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-02-18 12:30 pm
Log; Complete
When; Feb. 14 (Lust Day, evening)
Rating; MA+ (speaks for itself)
Characters; John Constantine![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silkcutremix, the Corinthian bitingnightmare
Summary; this is how you win a game of pool and pay up on a bet
Log;
A pitcher of beer and a pool room cordoned off by a plain almost floor length curtain was quite the way to spend an evening supposedly centered on romance, or lust as the city would have it. Flipping a coin designated the nightmare's turn to break the rack, pocketing two balls before missing his third. The rules of the game were simple, UK style vs US style, pocket points only.
"Shit, I think I'm winning," boasted the Corinthian before he took a slurp from his pint, "I told you pool's my game." Be damned if he was going to call the game snooker or billiards or whatever, having lost his British edge years ago. John's turn though, regain ground or turn tail and run?
---
John was hardly daunted, helping himself to a gulp. "Oh come off it, mate," the magus grinned. "Only two bloody balls and you're gloating as if you sunk them all." He leaned over the table to take his shot, perhaps taking longer than was necessary. Let Cori enjoy his security in experience, Constantine had other methods in mind that did not necessarily involve cheating, or at least that of the obvious kind.
The cue ball bounced off the barrier of the pool table, knocking a solid towards a hole, almost making it, just on the edge. It seemed to teeter but it did not sink, the cue ball wheeling aside certainly unable to give it that last push.
"Oh bugger me," Constantine nonchalantly sighed, spying what could have been an easy shot for Cori. "Your shot."
---
He had half a mind to suspect the other of hustling him, such tricks being tools of the trade when they were hustling other people. But John wouldn't deploy such skill on Cori now would he? Aw hell he probably would. Too bad the nightmare wasn't much of a magic man. He studied the solid at the end of the pocket then turned his suspicion onto the cue ball while chalking the tip of his stick.
"Trying to foul me," he asked with a smirk before bending over the edge. He smoothly sank his third stripe on the opposite end of the table, solid left alone. Like hell was the Corinthian going to sink Constantine's ball. He took a crack at a group of the others, further separating the solids and stripes without a pocket. "Your turn."
---
"Maybe," replied the magus, the gambler, after a hearty swig of Guinness. Pool might have been Cori's game but betting was Constantine's nature. All the income he ever and never needed could be procured at a casino in one night if he wished. This next shot sent a solid towards the one that had to debate whether to fall or not and had decided against it.
---
Make that two turns he lost consecutively. Cori wondered if John was even trying, if that was the point, or if he was going to come back with a vengeance right before he could pocket the eight ball. Interesting to say the least, and a man of few words he was tonight. The nightmare took up his cue stick to pocket the shot he set up previously, two stripes along the left side into the corner pocket in one turn. He looked at John, rather smugly, then tapped the cue ball on his second turn to send it into the middle of the table, no balls sunk.
"Are you even taking this seriously," Cori asked behind the rim of his pint.
---
Constantine offered the nightmare a mischievous look before chalking his stick and bending over to take his shot, taking no time in it unlike his first few. The cue ball bounced off the set solid from the previous turn, knocking both that and the teetering one into the hole. Its journey continued, ricocheting against the side of a solid near the middle of the table to the middle pocket, finishing at the other corner, the stained white ball using the last of its momentum to softly tap another solid into its hole.
Standing up, Constantine's only reply was simply, "You sure you want me to take this seriously?" sending the cue ball to the center. A slight sign of mercy or was he appearing to set up a pair of solids for another one of those magic man shots of his?
---
"Impressive," said the nightmare in his unamused manner. He should have known better, oh he should have known better...
Now it was a real game. He watched the cue ball roll into its merciful spot as offered by the magician. A little competitive? Cori removed his jacket, tossing it onto one of the nearby chairs to get to some real work. He banked the cue ball against the left side to pocket a stripey in the corner. His second turn hit a solid ball into a striped one, setting it up for a sink on his next round, that is if Constantine didn't interfere with it.
No witty remarks from this end of the table either, though he did give the Englishman a scheming look.
---
How scheming could those teeth eyes be? Quite, the magus having learned how to read a pair of shades in his time with him but he could imagine his extra two pairs gritting. Constantine felt no need to remove his coat, not just yet. With the silence brought focus and concentration.
The magus sure as hell was going to interfere: He hit the solid against the side. The two balls bounced against the back, the cue ball side-knocking another solid into a hole, the other solid rolling into another easy sink. The easy sink on the next turn was somehow avoided (too bloody easy), the other remaining ball knocked into a better sinking place, clinking into the eight ball, rolling it alarmingly close to the hole.
"Almost a game over," John commented, stepping back for another helping of Guinness.
---
This game became dangerously close dangerously quick. Despite his scheming and unamused expression Cori was rather flattered that the man wouldn't hold back, even if that included hustling his moves. He watched the eight ball roll so close, no doubt an Englishman's attempt to foul him. The nightmare had only two shots left. He studied the table, the formation of the remaining four colored balls. Damn.
He took his sweet time forming a strategy under the gulp of his Guinny, and after Cori set it down he laid his stick on the table. The cue ball cracked, hitting two sides before it sank one striped ball, giving the black ball a wide berth. Now they had one each. He stared at the balls, three of them, then gave John a grin. His shot sent his striped one across the table where it rolled to a stop, barely a centimeter behind the black ball.
"I guess it's your turn," he gave a casual shrug.
---
Constantine feigned a yawn. "Bugger, it just might be." He made a motion to check his watch, wearing it this time as he had intended to keep his wrist human for their entire outing, then turned to the table to do a bit of studying.
The cue ball sunk the solid with the same ease, the angle precise and perfect, but it had stopped where Constantine had not intended for an easy sink of the last hole. Bugger. He at least complicated things by knocking the eight ball away to a tricky in-between with no clear easy sink, just barely, barely touching the striped, a compliment to this game of fussy balls and ledges.
"Might be your shot, chief."
---
Oh yeah, he knew the old man wasn't asleep behind that yawn and time-check. Keep them on their toes, that was the Corinthian's game plan, at least when it came to competing with someone he actually liked. He hid his smirk behind his pint, took a gulp as John almost almost got that shot. Coincidence, luck, or magic, he wondered. After setting his pint down he took up his cue stick.
"Smooth, almost," Cori praised the blonde before tapping the cue ball along the side to sink his remaining stripe without sinking the white ball itself. With the black ball at the end of the table he briefly considered that Constantine might actually win. Maybe not. He sent the cue ball cracking across the felt surface, hitting the eight ball hard enough to ricochet off a side and roll towards a corner pocket. Almost there almost... then it sank.
---
Constantine cocked an eyebrow, his mouthful having yet to be swallowed: he genuinely lost and it surprised him. He truly lost a bet. The Guinness was a slow lump down his throat, the magus' stoic game face shattered; the nightmare could briefly see the whites of his eyes.
"Well fuck me sideways. You won."
---
"Damn right, should've bet money," Cori said in a matter-of-fact manner. He had no doubt in the first place, riiight...
The nightmare stuck his cue stick back in the rack and gave the magician a grin. He made no motion to grab his jacket or finish his beer. Teeth eyes glanced to the curtain, the thin fabric that separated them from the public. Easy to open, otherwise undisturbed. Hmm, he rubbed the palm of his hand, thoughtful. "You ready to pay up?"
---
John still had his stick. His shock had led him to forget about it as it rested in his fingers but the Constantinian look so typical of him was returning. Still, should he have had his tail, it would have been low, curling between his legs.
They could have done anything here, just the Corinthian, he and the table.
"Whatever you want, mate."
---
He approached the shocked Englishman and took hold of his belt loops. "You and me and the table."
---
"Works for me."
Best to reclaim a bit of that lost pride by making the first move, the magus closing in for a kiss.
---
The Corinthian was only half serious about that request since this room was lacking in locks and wards, but hell that was the thrill of it wasn't it? And what was this business about the old man's pride. He pursed his lips, meeting the magus halfway with a slip of his tongue. Some sort of lust curse was going around today, but this seemed normal for them. Cori pulled away, just enough to speak.
"Get on it."
---
"What?" John mumbled. "Thought you were going to be on top or some shit like tha'." Funny, Constantine was used to having the nightmare play to his fancy although he was damn sure he could make Cori scream even if they were in public; a bit of his fun in fucking came from that little risk.
---
"You. Get on the table. Now." He clarified, mild smirk on his mouth, all three of them.
---
Well, that was easy to understand, John stepping back, his back to the table and back into that sink of felt. The pool stick rested next to him, the magus giving the nightmare a look. Surely the nightmare must have felt something, the hardheaded Englishman seldom the one to obey. He blamed the moment of submission on his canine side, or he just happened to have an erection that begged for him.
---
Erection dutifully noted, christ John was easy sometimes. He took the remaining cue stick from the blonde and placed it back in the rack, just a courtesy now. Then it was the nightmare's prerogative to take care of the man's hard-on, his own thoughts developing regarding John's submission as his hands worked his button and zip.
"You'll keep an eye out for me won't you," Cori requested, no pun in that despite his chosen words as he settled between the magus' thighs and pushed the old man's back down to the green top. Clothes on, lights on. Felt dirtier that way.
---
Easy or maybe the nightmare had won where the First of the Fallen, among others, had fallen flat on their faces? That had to have merited something, unless Cori was needing a good round of teasing. That he could provide if things were going a little too easy.
"I can smell every loony cunt in this place." John rested his head, his rough stubbly neck and chin yellow in the light. "I'll let you know."
---
Not that easy, but perhaps the nightmare felt such things were better left unsaid anyway. Actions spoke louder than words, and they had little need to prove to anyone just where he had succeeded. As for teasing, as long as John kept tabs on who was coming and going on the other side of that curtain Cori was going to concentrate on fulfilling that end of the bet.
His lips brushed along the stubble of his chin, stopping just under John's jaw to suck at his throat while his hand worked the Englishman's erection out. No lube, none on him, had to rough it with the pre-cum.
---
Constantine in the meantime had ran his hands under Cori's shirt, along his back to his shoulder blades. He shut his eyes, running his fingers along the flesh has he had done so many times, admiring the Corinthian as if he were a sculpture, still always perfect, still going to be as long as they were together and he could help it. Cori's palms might have been discolored by his magic but his fingers worked now, all of them, and he could feel the difference already.
"Fancy... yourself a vampire?" John mumbled, having to struggle a bit to get the words clearly out.
---
Just for that remark he sank his teeth into the man's flesh, hardly breaking the skin, but his teeth gripped. Only for a moment that is, he released the magus to purr against him. "Just a little," Cori rumbled, ever catlike as he licked over the bitten spot then suckled again. How sure was he about not making noise? His fingers that worked near flawlessly now held John's cock up by his piercing alone, giving it a little tug.
---
The difference here at the very least, as Constantine gasped heavily while his fingers dug in, points on Cori's skin, was that the nightmare could suckle if he broke the skin and not have an allergic reaction. Down below he could feel an involuntary twitch in his leg; more, more, more. The nightmare's work had bore fruits as well, pre-cum beginning to bead at the head.
---
He sucked hard on his throat, a teenager as another old man had described him, and what teenagers did best was leave hot red marks on the necks of the ones they love. Almost like a vampire. The Corinthian had enough teeth to categorize his nature in a monstrous class all its own. A twitch wasn't enough, he wanted to get John writhing for it. He closed his discolored palm tightly around his shaft, to milk that white fluid out of him. Get enough between his fingers.
---
And lusting loving teenagers made their partners moan and clench, a hot, red mark that would remain well into the next day. Surely nothing new that the City hasn't seen, the two of them a fucking celebrity couple on the terminal (Heh...). Constantine dragged his nails along the nightmare's sides, the points his fingers had become, dark, hard, and very apparent, leaving red trails along the white. He was sweating, the Corinthian able to feel heat pulsing wildly through him, feel him want to squirm in that hot skin.
---
Remain as long as John Constantine wanted it to stay there, till it could fade on its own. If only his lids were lips too the Corinthian could make three. One large 'bruise' on the man's neck was rewarding enough. He pulled his mouth from that rough skin, huffed his hot breath against him for the edges that tracked down his body. He licked upward, up the magus' throat to his chin while his hand pumped tightly and very well paced.
"Tell me... did you cheat," Cori asked, referring to their game on this very table.
He was hard too, and he pressed it against the Englishman while his body rest on top of him. The nightmare's hand crept between them, unzipping his own jeans.
---
The Corinthian, in their six months together, marked by a fuck of a lot of great sex, should have known what John liked by then, much as he knew just how to get Cori going. It made the sex even better, much better than that the first few times in which the magus was adjusting himself just when he thought he would only be doing birds for the rest of his life.
He felt him breathe his words into his skin, his clawed hands having made their way down to Cori's own pair, without claws unless something had gone horribly wrong. "I could have... won if I... wanted to."
---
That's what he thought. He shook his head, white hair soft if a little dry. The magician didn't just have tricks up his sleeve, he was a trick. Oh Cori knew what he liked all right, and as the terms dictated... The second he felt those claws on his wrist he turned his own grip around to press John against the table, back flat on the green, his wrist pinned above his blond head.
"You talk big," he concluded with a smirk before claiming the Englishman's mouth again. His own stiff cock pushed against his messy hand, slowing his pace for that moment.
---
"An' I'm a liar," John mumbled into the kiss, feeling the extent of the felt and the hardness beneath it, "one of the most truthful, honest liars you'll ever meet." He had to be thankful the Corinthian was careful in avoiding his still sensitive burns, letting his still injured right hand with its marred wrist nudge the nightmare's member. The claws were absorbed back into his fingers, Constantine doubting he could give the nightmare a satisfactory hand job himself but he was willing to work around his wounds in the interest of sexual pursuits.
---
That claim was as true as any, genuine. He valued that in Constantine. Cori's palm remained pressed against the other's forearm, careful to avoid irritating those wrist wounds. The nightmare could be rough but he was sensitive where it counted. He breathed into his skin again as his hips slowly thrust against John's hand, coaxing the much needed natural lubricant. But he had a gift to give.
"I know, John," said the Corinthian, his voice warm, "you just... lie here and take it."
The terms of their agreement, winner on top, and that's what he intended to fulfill. With a quick 'huff' Cori lifted the rest of himself onto the table, on all fours with the magician under him. He let go of his arm and pressed his palm flat just above John's shoulder, his pale ass bared with his jeans snug around his thighs. He didn't even give a warning as he reached back to grip his slick cock and press it against himself.
---
Wordplay was a funny thing like that.
John grunted in surprise, his head rolling back. Sex would have been a time for pseudo-casual conversation otherwise. The magus got his best ideas either from drinking or sex. Usually the first, the second when there was someone to fuck that hadn't dropped dead yet. The denture-eyed bastard was still ticking. All the better.
"Y'know... We're not the... uaaah... only ones shagging... here."
---
"I don't.. doubt it," said the very much alive Corinthian, very much uncursed though with his libido it was hard to tell the difference. But he had wanted to do something for the magician, aside from treating him to a pitcher of the black stuff.
He grunted softly, biting down on any louder noise as he eased himself onto John's thicker cock. He was stiff and lubed enough to not sacrifice friction as Cori relaxed around his shaft. Six months and a few days since they met, six months and almost to the day they first had that coffee table shag. Damn, one of them should have been dead by now if it weren't for... magic? Luck? He rocked his hips up and down on Constantine, never mind how they managed, only that they did.
---
Eh, John decided that the Corinthian was still alive simply because he could not "die," except by flame or his creator's will. If anything, all the dying was taken care of when Castile had locked the nightmare in that chamber and drowned him for shit knew how many times. Probably covered why a lot of those he knew and associated with were still alive, but the death of Henry might have meant a slow creeping return of the Constantine curse.
Cursed or uncursed? John didn't need to be cursed by the City to fuck whatever his whims wished, even if the Corinthian this time was on top. He'd have to look into getting those silver scars of his healed up to somewhere more tolerable. His right palm might have needed reconstruction altogether. Too bad his own lust had blinded his enhanced senses to the prying eyes catching a whiff of their shameless lovemaking.
---
If the curse was anything substantial even his immortality would not be an obstacle. The Corinthian on the other hand perhaps had no curse, just bad luck and a job that required he remain alone for the centuries lest his work spill over into the lives of others. Constantine had an advantage there, being another of the rare few who had seen equally intolerable things in his lifetime.
He lowered his hips till he was filled to the hilt, wordplay giving them both what they wanted despite one winning and the other losing the game. As for those scars Cori leaned over the Englishman to lick at his fingers, hot tongue passing close to those marks, teeth eyes barely noticing the voyeur but the sense that they were being watched crept up the back of his neck.
"Someone... bought a ticket.." he mentioned in a whisper to John. Tsk and wasn't he supposed to be the one keeping an eye out.
---
"What?" John moaned, feeling his own hair prickle although more at the proximity of that caressing tongue to his wounds. He sniffed, nose to the air the best the table would allow. "Buggering fuck." Did he have to set up wards the next time they shagged in public? There was the thrill in knowing that they could get caught but the possibility of getting caught at this very moment was killing his erection.
---
"Don't get soft on me now," he muttered under a smirk, hand reaching back to keep that erection snug up his ass. "Keep fucking," suggested the nightmare. With the entire city at the mercy of a lust curse perhaps tonight was an exception where public exhibition was concerned.
---
"Rather... keep this between you... and me," John growled, pressing his own hips towards the nightmare's ass. "For times sake."
The prying eyes at this point were hesitant. To reveal itself or not? The two knew it was there and it knew that the two would not take to it so kindly, or would they? Just watching them made its blood hot, brimming with the very lust that had burned through the City indeed.
---
Sweet and considerate, he supposed as his back arched from the slap of hips to his ass. He grunted into the crook of Constantine's neck and glanced aside once more to their guest. Well well, practically 36-24-36, young, exceeding the standards of anyone who fancied the female gender. Too bad Cori wasn't a part of that population but John...
The nightmare thread his clean fingers into that blonde hair and gripped it. "You'll thank me later," he groaned, hot and eager to keep fucking, hot and eager to please. He turned the old man's hair towards their guest's direction.
---
"What the he- 'Strewth!"
The eyes revealed indeed the very shapely beauty that was one of the bar patrons, new to the crawling gig, probably came with her friends for the first time or second and strayed a bit. Maybe she was not the one for the orgy of bodies that her group had become. Maybe she was more partial to the homosexual fuckery occurring before her eyes. She was petrified.
"Oh, oh," she whispered in hushed breaths, backing away.
"Stay right there," Constantine grunted in return, his fingers resting on the Corinthian's ass. "Stay, luv."
"I'm sorry!"
"You'll be if you piss off like that." So perhaps Constantine was cursed, the erection hardening as he studied her figure, those eyes lingering on her breasts a little longer than he should have.
---
Well John sure had a way with the ladies. Shit he could feel his cock stiffening again, to the point where Cori didn't seem to care that his blue eyes were taking in the sight of another, a woman at that. Maybe there was a trace of the curse lingering in his drive after all. He continued to ride the man's seat, slowly first, maybe even to tempt the lady. His own erection hardly lost.
"Fuck," he panted, ready to keep on banging if the woman wasn't going to jump the train before it could pull out of the station.
---
The woman was no stranger to sex, but a one night stand with these two random men? Both of them looked... old. Sort of. One had white hair and was young while the other looked old but his hair was a healthy yellow through and through. She would have smiled to herself about how the older man's hair must have suckled out all of the color from his partner's, but she felt her fingers undoing her clothes on the curse's whim. The question of STDs barely crossed her mind, a silly afterthought.
"That's it, luv, all of it," John groaned, having to wonder when was the last time he had shagged a human bird. "Get all of it off and come fuck with ol' Johnny on the table 'ere."
---
Considering how both of them were subject to John's unique condition Cori was well aware of the risks involved and therefore the one to have it in the back of his mind. Consider it a result of his previous habits in the waking world, but where that other aspect was concerned... He settled on the Englishman's hips, thick and filled, and leaned over to whisper in his ear.
"I'm not giving up my seat," declared the nightmare, for safety purposes and out of a streak of possessiveness. The magician's stubbled face on the other hand was free game.
---
Constantine's lycanthropy had not carried as much of a stigma (if at all) in the City as it would have in the magic communities back in London. Mundane werewolves were locked up in mental institutions. Actual werewolves were quickly dispatched by dedicated hunters if they could not control their condition and Constantine knew a few. Bloody dedicated to their work they were.
The woman eyed the two, feeling better about the man below (old pervert) than the man above. Both were sexy in their own rights so she had little issue with warming up and tending to the more open fellow down there on the table, kissing him curiously. Funny taste. Different from any boy her age.
"Slight case of lycanthropy." John grinned. "Watch the teeth, sweetheart, 'less you want a nice set of yer own."
Fortunately, the woman, silly little Ginger, did not know what that meant, but it had given her a slight edge of apprehension. "What's that?"
"Something you don't want. Now give us a kiss. Kiss like you mean it this time."
---
What a tease, hell that girl looked young enough to be disqualified via trophy rule, but the Corinthian wasn't one to talk. He made sure to keep his shades snug on his face, no need to explain his own sets of teeth, but he was courteous enough to lean back, giving her room to taste the magician's mouth. Who cared for names right now?
"You better get on... before he runs out of steam," said the nightmare to this stranger, tongue wetting his lips. A fair player too, having slowed his grind for the lady to catch up.
---
Get on? Ginger blinked a moment as he pulled up from the stubbly man, crawling up on the table with the two. Well, the white-haired man (an albino?) gave the invitation so she shuffled over, giving Stubbles below a look before straddling his face once they both knew, his arms with those horrible looking scars marking the wrists supporting her. He was going to tickle, she bet, leaving her facing the other man. Slowly she reached for his cock as Stubbles gently played his tongue around her vulva.
---
Yeah get on, let the old pervert have his fun, so long as Constantine's cock was his to please and his alone. The nightmare hadn't been paying close attention when she climbed on, having anticipated her riding his face. What he didn't anticipate were the fingers around his hard-on, not the rough tips that John had, no these fingers were smoother, softer, feminine.
For a moment Cori froze, hips ceasing their fucking. This was.... this wasn't new per se, just rare and unexpected, for a reason at that. But... the old pervert under them was into this wasn't he. After a thought the white-blonde leaned forward to take her left tit into his mouth. One night, once in a while.
---
The sudden deer-in-headlights reaction from Cori had startled John, which in turn had stopped his sampling of Ginger's special. Had she done something wrong? Who knows, she knew she had to be taking some kind of risk if she thought she could fuck with two gay guys, even if they were two gay guys with one inviting her all too eagerly. The feeling of that warm tongue teasing her clit, circling it, was heavenly though.
---
To be accurate they were 3/4 gay weren't they? The Corinthian knew this well and far be it for him to deny John his appetites when he was more than willing to indulge in Cori's. While the magus tasted the slit between her thighs the nightmare cupped her plump breast and bit her nipple. The fact that she was female wasn't on his mind, the fact that making her moan and squeal turned the Englishman on was.
---
"Uaaaa..." Ginger moaned, before, through the rapture going on below, noticing the metal bit brushing her fingers as she stroked and worked the white-haired man's cock. "You're... pierced?"
---
"Nnhn," he sounded around her skin, sucking on it. Be damned if she was going to ask him to put it in her. Fucking the woman's hand was far enough for his taste, and that was comforted by the cock in his ass. Speaking of that dick, John better be having the time of his old man's life.
---
John was. As a matter of fact, it was a nice change of pace to see what he had been missing in his time with Cori, unless Cori could come up with a slit and flower rather than a hole (which he had but was unwilling to share, he remembered). A woman could pleasure him as well as Cori could, although the Corinthian would be hard to top, but pleasuring a woman was different from pleasuring a man. He savored every trickle of her.
Ginger on the other hand was new to the concept of genital piercings. There was no doubt that they existed, but feeling one was another thing entirely. The feeling of teeth on her sensitive nipple was a distraction enough.
---
Don't think any of his decision to indulge in this threesome had anything to do with his denying the magus his rare but possible feminine body. Well, maybe a little of it did... He was male through and through though, born that way, created that way. Any 'flowering' was simply an extension of his job. Being a human male however was debatable... as long as he could adequately satisfy and be satisfied the nightmare had no complaints.
Christ he was letting a woman thumb his piercing, letting her milk the tainted pre-cum out of him. Ginger was safe if she didn't consume any of it and he was close to orgasm. Cori quickened his pace, ass clenched over the Englishman, cock fucking the woman's hand. Sweat beaded across his forehead as he pinched her other nipple.
---
All of them should have been close to orgasm: Constantine had male flings in his lifetime but he had not forgotten how to thrill a bird. He had been with many women in his time and this type he could time his orgasm to, even with a twat-only view; it was how she moaned, how moist she was, how it was flowing to taste (fuck, a regular Niagara Falls at that). Ginger's fingers on the other pumped and palmed. Sweat on flesh glistened in the low light above, its heat almost as intense as the passion that gripped the threesome.
"So close," Ginger whispered, Constantine's hunches correct.
---
Cori rarely ever thrilled a bird, and a good majority of that time was out of nightmare's obligation. John was the expert in this respect and really he could keep the title. He was quite satisfied with his professional ability to thrill cocks. Panting harder now he was close to peaking, body hot, cock tight. His load wasn't for her to keep however, and for her health's sake he took Ginger's wrist away from his member to lick off any traces of pre-cum from her fingers.
---
This had briefly puzzled Ginger (whose sexual experiences had not been so varied or often as the 3/4th gay pair), but not so much as the building feeling towards climax had been, which she pressed against the arms supporting her ass in urgency: faster, faster, faster! The licking had added to it, a pleasing kink she found.
Constantine's hips had pressed against the nightmare's ass. The building sensation of climax had enabled him to keep up with the mounting demands of his female partner, the magus almost threatening to eat her off rather than out. No real chance of infection unless blood was involved at the least.
---
Puzzled but for the better. They didn't have any condoms, that should have been of worthy note to the eyes of a casual sex participant, though by how the white-blonde was pounding against the other's hips who would have noticed they were barebacking. Once the lady's fingers were thoroughly licked clean he turned to suck on her breast again as his hand dared to venture between her thighs, sliding along those wet lips, hers and John's.
---
Perhaps as a test of the nightmare's surprising tolerance, that was all Ginger needed and she flung herself forward, clinging to the nightmare in orgasm. Her head was thrown back, gasping as she throbbed. Constantine only wished he had his dick in there then, but the constant squeeze of an anus combined with its owner's thrusting was all he needed to get off, which he shortly followed after, filling the nightmare with that all too familiar sensation of hot seed he had enjoyed time and time before.
---
What the hell... He was accustomed to the occasional woman throwing herself at him, but in the throes of orgasm? Shit, the nightmare thought to himself, he must really like Constantine. The feeling of hot seed in his ass was more natural to Cori, and he pressed his damp forehead against her chest till he came over John's stomach. He kept his other hand over his cock to minimize staining, but the ropes of white that did land on the Englishman's shirt were rather appealing, both of them clothed and she quite naked.
"Fuck..." the nightmare grunted against her full breasts. His hands were a mess.
---
John was the first one to break the silence as the three of them recovered from their climaxes:
"That was fucking great," he grinned, his face well a mess, resembling a rooting animal. Ginger would have to very gingerly get off of him if he wanted to clean his face up, but he wasn't arguing with the view, his hands having a plump young ass in between them.
"You're... fantastic," gasped Ginger, leaning back, stepping off to allow the Englishman some air. And to clean up. The felt would scent faintly of their excursion and the silly girl would have a story when she rejoined her group, should they not have ditched her. They were still probably going at it. "... Oh, um.
"I think you have names?"
---
He thought about offering quite a few names, Columbo and Vincent Price among them, as if she'd believe it. Anonymity was a valuable thing for both nightmare and magician, but they weren't exactly shrouded in shadows in this city, the angels knew who they were. In either case Cori left that decision up to John while he pulled his ass off the man's cock only to lean forward and lick away her mess from his face.
---
Ginger watched the two men lap at each other's faces as semen dribbled from the other man's anus, the first one speaking: "Guy... on me is Adrian... Adrian Brown. I'm John McMa- Mmmpgh - McMahon. Wassa' lovely bird like you doing here...?"
"Outing," Ginger replied, placing a hand on her chest as she stepped off the table, feeling a bit embarrassed for having given into her carnal desires so easily. "Um, my name is Ginger. Ginger Schnapps. Nice to meet you two."
"You have a hell of a way of sayin' (aahhh) hullo, luv." John's tongue played along Cori's lips in turn.
---
Interesting names, unfamiliar to Cori himself, he assumed John was either in a creative mood or these were some aliases from a bygone era. He continued to slide his tongue across that stubble, delved into the blonde's wet mouth, tasting her in it like a good dirty nightmare. Ginger Schnapps, sounded like a stripper's name or a rather erotic film.
"Thanks," was all the Corinthian said to her, cryptic words but he was the less amiable one to begin with.
---
Ginger bit her lip. "Once in a lifetime," she replied, dressing herself, cheeks hot. She reminded herself that it couldn't be any worse than what had gripped the City, and she was only a victim of its whim. Excuse enough. "Um, I think I should... go now." She did not back away, reaching into a pocket for a scrap of paper and pen, scribbling something as she stood there, half-dressed. The scrap fluttered to the table, a number (the City had phones? Or what?) with her name and a heart.
John did not pay any mind to her when she left with a soft bye, well occupied by his nightmare.
---
So said the etiquette for casual sex with strangers. Two aliases and a phone number, and even the latter could be faked. Who knew if that was Ginger's first or last excursion for the night, though it must have been obvious that the magician and nightmare knew each other. At least she hadn't thrown money on the table, now that would have been a laugh.
Cori continued to lick away her remnants from John's face, savoring the foreign taste with the other's saliva while the semen in his relaxing ass trickled out to make a mess of their pants. "Surprised," he asked.
---
"You did that for me," John replied, tasting his lips, both his and Cori's. The laundry actually being done would be in order after this, especially with the stray semen and musky odor of sex in his clothes.
---
"A little pussy never hurt anybody," Cori remarked. It wasn't his preference to be certain, but hell it made him feel competitively dirty to have to share once in a while. As for the laundry, fortunately green felt was not theirs to disinfect.
---
"Even random voyeur pussy?" smiled the magus. The felt wouldn't be the only thing the poor sods in charge of this joint would be in charge of cleaning.
---
Better a stranger than someone they actually knew, now that would have been terribly awkward. Cori didn't care that he spread the stains on their clothes as he rest on top of Constantine. "Once in a while," he whispered against that smile, "but tomorrow, your ass is mine."
---
John laughed, the grin full of teeth. "Is that a threat?"
---
A laugh, rare and certainly something to savor. He licked the stud in the man's lobe before answering. "Like you mind," said the nightmare with a smile, tip of his tongue gracing the outer shell of his ear.
---
John's hands had trailed back to the nightmare's back, to his ass. "If I did, you wouldn't be on me, mate."
---
"I didn't think so," Cori concurred. He still felt stretched from the lack of adequate lubricant and John's above average size, but it was a good feeling, enough to leave him satiated and somewhat unwilling to even pull his jeans back up.
---
"Let's see you own me arse then," John smirked, giving the nightmare a good grope. "Right now, I have yours."
---
"Nnhh," he sounded from the grope, "you won't even see me coming." The nightmare returned the smirk, and the magus should know, the Corinthian always made good on his promises.
---
"Because it'd be in me arse, right?"
---
"I'm going to keep you guessing on that one," Cori narrowed his teeth eyes slyly.
---
"Go on and try," dared the magus, those eyes just begging for his best effort.
---
"You're on," said the nightmare, accepting the challenge with another bite and suckle to the man's throat. Of course the second round would have to wait, but the Corinthian was patient and the element of surprise, well that would certainly be to his advantage.
Rating; MA+ (speaks for itself)
Characters; John Constantine
silkcutremix, the Corinthian bitingnightmareSummary; this is how you win a game of pool and pay up on a bet
Log;
A pitcher of beer and a pool room cordoned off by a plain almost floor length curtain was quite the way to spend an evening supposedly centered on romance, or lust as the city would have it. Flipping a coin designated the nightmare's turn to break the rack, pocketing two balls before missing his third. The rules of the game were simple, UK style vs US style, pocket points only.
"Shit, I think I'm winning," boasted the Corinthian before he took a slurp from his pint, "I told you pool's my game." Be damned if he was going to call the game snooker or billiards or whatever, having lost his British edge years ago. John's turn though, regain ground or turn tail and run?
---
John was hardly daunted, helping himself to a gulp. "Oh come off it, mate," the magus grinned. "Only two bloody balls and you're gloating as if you sunk them all." He leaned over the table to take his shot, perhaps taking longer than was necessary. Let Cori enjoy his security in experience, Constantine had other methods in mind that did not necessarily involve cheating, or at least that of the obvious kind.
The cue ball bounced off the barrier of the pool table, knocking a solid towards a hole, almost making it, just on the edge. It seemed to teeter but it did not sink, the cue ball wheeling aside certainly unable to give it that last push.
"Oh bugger me," Constantine nonchalantly sighed, spying what could have been an easy shot for Cori. "Your shot."
---
He had half a mind to suspect the other of hustling him, such tricks being tools of the trade when they were hustling other people. But John wouldn't deploy such skill on Cori now would he? Aw hell he probably would. Too bad the nightmare wasn't much of a magic man. He studied the solid at the end of the pocket then turned his suspicion onto the cue ball while chalking the tip of his stick.
"Trying to foul me," he asked with a smirk before bending over the edge. He smoothly sank his third stripe on the opposite end of the table, solid left alone. Like hell was the Corinthian going to sink Constantine's ball. He took a crack at a group of the others, further separating the solids and stripes without a pocket. "Your turn."
---
"Maybe," replied the magus, the gambler, after a hearty swig of Guinness. Pool might have been Cori's game but betting was Constantine's nature. All the income he ever and never needed could be procured at a casino in one night if he wished. This next shot sent a solid towards the one that had to debate whether to fall or not and had decided against it.
---
Make that two turns he lost consecutively. Cori wondered if John was even trying, if that was the point, or if he was going to come back with a vengeance right before he could pocket the eight ball. Interesting to say the least, and a man of few words he was tonight. The nightmare took up his cue stick to pocket the shot he set up previously, two stripes along the left side into the corner pocket in one turn. He looked at John, rather smugly, then tapped the cue ball on his second turn to send it into the middle of the table, no balls sunk.
"Are you even taking this seriously," Cori asked behind the rim of his pint.
---
Constantine offered the nightmare a mischievous look before chalking his stick and bending over to take his shot, taking no time in it unlike his first few. The cue ball bounced off the set solid from the previous turn, knocking both that and the teetering one into the hole. Its journey continued, ricocheting against the side of a solid near the middle of the table to the middle pocket, finishing at the other corner, the stained white ball using the last of its momentum to softly tap another solid into its hole.
Standing up, Constantine's only reply was simply, "You sure you want me to take this seriously?" sending the cue ball to the center. A slight sign of mercy or was he appearing to set up a pair of solids for another one of those magic man shots of his?
---
"Impressive," said the nightmare in his unamused manner. He should have known better, oh he should have known better...
Now it was a real game. He watched the cue ball roll into its merciful spot as offered by the magician. A little competitive? Cori removed his jacket, tossing it onto one of the nearby chairs to get to some real work. He banked the cue ball against the left side to pocket a stripey in the corner. His second turn hit a solid ball into a striped one, setting it up for a sink on his next round, that is if Constantine didn't interfere with it.
No witty remarks from this end of the table either, though he did give the Englishman a scheming look.
---
How scheming could those teeth eyes be? Quite, the magus having learned how to read a pair of shades in his time with him but he could imagine his extra two pairs gritting. Constantine felt no need to remove his coat, not just yet. With the silence brought focus and concentration.
The magus sure as hell was going to interfere: He hit the solid against the side. The two balls bounced against the back, the cue ball side-knocking another solid into a hole, the other solid rolling into another easy sink. The easy sink on the next turn was somehow avoided (too bloody easy), the other remaining ball knocked into a better sinking place, clinking into the eight ball, rolling it alarmingly close to the hole.
"Almost a game over," John commented, stepping back for another helping of Guinness.
---
This game became dangerously close dangerously quick. Despite his scheming and unamused expression Cori was rather flattered that the man wouldn't hold back, even if that included hustling his moves. He watched the eight ball roll so close, no doubt an Englishman's attempt to foul him. The nightmare had only two shots left. He studied the table, the formation of the remaining four colored balls. Damn.
He took his sweet time forming a strategy under the gulp of his Guinny, and after Cori set it down he laid his stick on the table. The cue ball cracked, hitting two sides before it sank one striped ball, giving the black ball a wide berth. Now they had one each. He stared at the balls, three of them, then gave John a grin. His shot sent his striped one across the table where it rolled to a stop, barely a centimeter behind the black ball.
"I guess it's your turn," he gave a casual shrug.
---
Constantine feigned a yawn. "Bugger, it just might be." He made a motion to check his watch, wearing it this time as he had intended to keep his wrist human for their entire outing, then turned to the table to do a bit of studying.
The cue ball sunk the solid with the same ease, the angle precise and perfect, but it had stopped where Constantine had not intended for an easy sink of the last hole. Bugger. He at least complicated things by knocking the eight ball away to a tricky in-between with no clear easy sink, just barely, barely touching the striped, a compliment to this game of fussy balls and ledges.
"Might be your shot, chief."
---
Oh yeah, he knew the old man wasn't asleep behind that yawn and time-check. Keep them on their toes, that was the Corinthian's game plan, at least when it came to competing with someone he actually liked. He hid his smirk behind his pint, took a gulp as John almost almost got that shot. Coincidence, luck, or magic, he wondered. After setting his pint down he took up his cue stick.
"Smooth, almost," Cori praised the blonde before tapping the cue ball along the side to sink his remaining stripe without sinking the white ball itself. With the black ball at the end of the table he briefly considered that Constantine might actually win. Maybe not. He sent the cue ball cracking across the felt surface, hitting the eight ball hard enough to ricochet off a side and roll towards a corner pocket. Almost there almost... then it sank.
---
Constantine cocked an eyebrow, his mouthful having yet to be swallowed: he genuinely lost and it surprised him. He truly lost a bet. The Guinness was a slow lump down his throat, the magus' stoic game face shattered; the nightmare could briefly see the whites of his eyes.
"Well fuck me sideways. You won."
---
"Damn right, should've bet money," Cori said in a matter-of-fact manner. He had no doubt in the first place, riiight...
The nightmare stuck his cue stick back in the rack and gave the magician a grin. He made no motion to grab his jacket or finish his beer. Teeth eyes glanced to the curtain, the thin fabric that separated them from the public. Easy to open, otherwise undisturbed. Hmm, he rubbed the palm of his hand, thoughtful. "You ready to pay up?"
---
John still had his stick. His shock had led him to forget about it as it rested in his fingers but the Constantinian look so typical of him was returning. Still, should he have had his tail, it would have been low, curling between his legs.
They could have done anything here, just the Corinthian, he and the table.
"Whatever you want, mate."
---
He approached the shocked Englishman and took hold of his belt loops. "You and me and the table."
---
"Works for me."
Best to reclaim a bit of that lost pride by making the first move, the magus closing in for a kiss.
---
The Corinthian was only half serious about that request since this room was lacking in locks and wards, but hell that was the thrill of it wasn't it? And what was this business about the old man's pride. He pursed his lips, meeting the magus halfway with a slip of his tongue. Some sort of lust curse was going around today, but this seemed normal for them. Cori pulled away, just enough to speak.
"Get on it."
---
"What?" John mumbled. "Thought you were going to be on top or some shit like tha'." Funny, Constantine was used to having the nightmare play to his fancy although he was damn sure he could make Cori scream even if they were in public; a bit of his fun in fucking came from that little risk.
---
"You. Get on the table. Now." He clarified, mild smirk on his mouth, all three of them.
---
Well, that was easy to understand, John stepping back, his back to the table and back into that sink of felt. The pool stick rested next to him, the magus giving the nightmare a look. Surely the nightmare must have felt something, the hardheaded Englishman seldom the one to obey. He blamed the moment of submission on his canine side, or he just happened to have an erection that begged for him.
---
Erection dutifully noted, christ John was easy sometimes. He took the remaining cue stick from the blonde and placed it back in the rack, just a courtesy now. Then it was the nightmare's prerogative to take care of the man's hard-on, his own thoughts developing regarding John's submission as his hands worked his button and zip.
"You'll keep an eye out for me won't you," Cori requested, no pun in that despite his chosen words as he settled between the magus' thighs and pushed the old man's back down to the green top. Clothes on, lights on. Felt dirtier that way.
---
Easy or maybe the nightmare had won where the First of the Fallen, among others, had fallen flat on their faces? That had to have merited something, unless Cori was needing a good round of teasing. That he could provide if things were going a little too easy.
"I can smell every loony cunt in this place." John rested his head, his rough stubbly neck and chin yellow in the light. "I'll let you know."
---
Not that easy, but perhaps the nightmare felt such things were better left unsaid anyway. Actions spoke louder than words, and they had little need to prove to anyone just where he had succeeded. As for teasing, as long as John kept tabs on who was coming and going on the other side of that curtain Cori was going to concentrate on fulfilling that end of the bet.
His lips brushed along the stubble of his chin, stopping just under John's jaw to suck at his throat while his hand worked the Englishman's erection out. No lube, none on him, had to rough it with the pre-cum.
---
Constantine in the meantime had ran his hands under Cori's shirt, along his back to his shoulder blades. He shut his eyes, running his fingers along the flesh has he had done so many times, admiring the Corinthian as if he were a sculpture, still always perfect, still going to be as long as they were together and he could help it. Cori's palms might have been discolored by his magic but his fingers worked now, all of them, and he could feel the difference already.
"Fancy... yourself a vampire?" John mumbled, having to struggle a bit to get the words clearly out.
---
Just for that remark he sank his teeth into the man's flesh, hardly breaking the skin, but his teeth gripped. Only for a moment that is, he released the magus to purr against him. "Just a little," Cori rumbled, ever catlike as he licked over the bitten spot then suckled again. How sure was he about not making noise? His fingers that worked near flawlessly now held John's cock up by his piercing alone, giving it a little tug.
---
The difference here at the very least, as Constantine gasped heavily while his fingers dug in, points on Cori's skin, was that the nightmare could suckle if he broke the skin and not have an allergic reaction. Down below he could feel an involuntary twitch in his leg; more, more, more. The nightmare's work had bore fruits as well, pre-cum beginning to bead at the head.
---
He sucked hard on his throat, a teenager as another old man had described him, and what teenagers did best was leave hot red marks on the necks of the ones they love. Almost like a vampire. The Corinthian had enough teeth to categorize his nature in a monstrous class all its own. A twitch wasn't enough, he wanted to get John writhing for it. He closed his discolored palm tightly around his shaft, to milk that white fluid out of him. Get enough between his fingers.
---
And lusting loving teenagers made their partners moan and clench, a hot, red mark that would remain well into the next day. Surely nothing new that the City hasn't seen, the two of them a fucking celebrity couple on the terminal (Heh...). Constantine dragged his nails along the nightmare's sides, the points his fingers had become, dark, hard, and very apparent, leaving red trails along the white. He was sweating, the Corinthian able to feel heat pulsing wildly through him, feel him want to squirm in that hot skin.
---
Remain as long as John Constantine wanted it to stay there, till it could fade on its own. If only his lids were lips too the Corinthian could make three. One large 'bruise' on the man's neck was rewarding enough. He pulled his mouth from that rough skin, huffed his hot breath against him for the edges that tracked down his body. He licked upward, up the magus' throat to his chin while his hand pumped tightly and very well paced.
"Tell me... did you cheat," Cori asked, referring to their game on this very table.
He was hard too, and he pressed it against the Englishman while his body rest on top of him. The nightmare's hand crept between them, unzipping his own jeans.
---
The Corinthian, in their six months together, marked by a fuck of a lot of great sex, should have known what John liked by then, much as he knew just how to get Cori going. It made the sex even better, much better than that the first few times in which the magus was adjusting himself just when he thought he would only be doing birds for the rest of his life.
He felt him breathe his words into his skin, his clawed hands having made their way down to Cori's own pair, without claws unless something had gone horribly wrong. "I could have... won if I... wanted to."
---
That's what he thought. He shook his head, white hair soft if a little dry. The magician didn't just have tricks up his sleeve, he was a trick. Oh Cori knew what he liked all right, and as the terms dictated... The second he felt those claws on his wrist he turned his own grip around to press John against the table, back flat on the green, his wrist pinned above his blond head.
"You talk big," he concluded with a smirk before claiming the Englishman's mouth again. His own stiff cock pushed against his messy hand, slowing his pace for that moment.
---
"An' I'm a liar," John mumbled into the kiss, feeling the extent of the felt and the hardness beneath it, "one of the most truthful, honest liars you'll ever meet." He had to be thankful the Corinthian was careful in avoiding his still sensitive burns, letting his still injured right hand with its marred wrist nudge the nightmare's member. The claws were absorbed back into his fingers, Constantine doubting he could give the nightmare a satisfactory hand job himself but he was willing to work around his wounds in the interest of sexual pursuits.
---
That claim was as true as any, genuine. He valued that in Constantine. Cori's palm remained pressed against the other's forearm, careful to avoid irritating those wrist wounds. The nightmare could be rough but he was sensitive where it counted. He breathed into his skin again as his hips slowly thrust against John's hand, coaxing the much needed natural lubricant. But he had a gift to give.
"I know, John," said the Corinthian, his voice warm, "you just... lie here and take it."
The terms of their agreement, winner on top, and that's what he intended to fulfill. With a quick 'huff' Cori lifted the rest of himself onto the table, on all fours with the magician under him. He let go of his arm and pressed his palm flat just above John's shoulder, his pale ass bared with his jeans snug around his thighs. He didn't even give a warning as he reached back to grip his slick cock and press it against himself.
---
Wordplay was a funny thing like that.
John grunted in surprise, his head rolling back. Sex would have been a time for pseudo-casual conversation otherwise. The magus got his best ideas either from drinking or sex. Usually the first, the second when there was someone to fuck that hadn't dropped dead yet. The denture-eyed bastard was still ticking. All the better.
"Y'know... We're not the... uaaah... only ones shagging... here."
---
"I don't.. doubt it," said the very much alive Corinthian, very much uncursed though with his libido it was hard to tell the difference. But he had wanted to do something for the magician, aside from treating him to a pitcher of the black stuff.
He grunted softly, biting down on any louder noise as he eased himself onto John's thicker cock. He was stiff and lubed enough to not sacrifice friction as Cori relaxed around his shaft. Six months and a few days since they met, six months and almost to the day they first had that coffee table shag. Damn, one of them should have been dead by now if it weren't for... magic? Luck? He rocked his hips up and down on Constantine, never mind how they managed, only that they did.
---
Eh, John decided that the Corinthian was still alive simply because he could not "die," except by flame or his creator's will. If anything, all the dying was taken care of when Castile had locked the nightmare in that chamber and drowned him for shit knew how many times. Probably covered why a lot of those he knew and associated with were still alive, but the death of Henry might have meant a slow creeping return of the Constantine curse.
Cursed or uncursed? John didn't need to be cursed by the City to fuck whatever his whims wished, even if the Corinthian this time was on top. He'd have to look into getting those silver scars of his healed up to somewhere more tolerable. His right palm might have needed reconstruction altogether. Too bad his own lust had blinded his enhanced senses to the prying eyes catching a whiff of their shameless lovemaking.
---
If the curse was anything substantial even his immortality would not be an obstacle. The Corinthian on the other hand perhaps had no curse, just bad luck and a job that required he remain alone for the centuries lest his work spill over into the lives of others. Constantine had an advantage there, being another of the rare few who had seen equally intolerable things in his lifetime.
He lowered his hips till he was filled to the hilt, wordplay giving them both what they wanted despite one winning and the other losing the game. As for those scars Cori leaned over the Englishman to lick at his fingers, hot tongue passing close to those marks, teeth eyes barely noticing the voyeur but the sense that they were being watched crept up the back of his neck.
"Someone... bought a ticket.." he mentioned in a whisper to John. Tsk and wasn't he supposed to be the one keeping an eye out.
---
"What?" John moaned, feeling his own hair prickle although more at the proximity of that caressing tongue to his wounds. He sniffed, nose to the air the best the table would allow. "Buggering fuck." Did he have to set up wards the next time they shagged in public? There was the thrill in knowing that they could get caught but the possibility of getting caught at this very moment was killing his erection.
---
"Don't get soft on me now," he muttered under a smirk, hand reaching back to keep that erection snug up his ass. "Keep fucking," suggested the nightmare. With the entire city at the mercy of a lust curse perhaps tonight was an exception where public exhibition was concerned.
---
"Rather... keep this between you... and me," John growled, pressing his own hips towards the nightmare's ass. "For times sake."
The prying eyes at this point were hesitant. To reveal itself or not? The two knew it was there and it knew that the two would not take to it so kindly, or would they? Just watching them made its blood hot, brimming with the very lust that had burned through the City indeed.
---
Sweet and considerate, he supposed as his back arched from the slap of hips to his ass. He grunted into the crook of Constantine's neck and glanced aside once more to their guest. Well well, practically 36-24-36, young, exceeding the standards of anyone who fancied the female gender. Too bad Cori wasn't a part of that population but John...
The nightmare thread his clean fingers into that blonde hair and gripped it. "You'll thank me later," he groaned, hot and eager to keep fucking, hot and eager to please. He turned the old man's hair towards their guest's direction.
---
"What the he- 'Strewth!"
The eyes revealed indeed the very shapely beauty that was one of the bar patrons, new to the crawling gig, probably came with her friends for the first time or second and strayed a bit. Maybe she was not the one for the orgy of bodies that her group had become. Maybe she was more partial to the homosexual fuckery occurring before her eyes. She was petrified.
"Oh, oh," she whispered in hushed breaths, backing away.
"Stay right there," Constantine grunted in return, his fingers resting on the Corinthian's ass. "Stay, luv."
"I'm sorry!"
"You'll be if you piss off like that." So perhaps Constantine was cursed, the erection hardening as he studied her figure, those eyes lingering on her breasts a little longer than he should have.
---
Well John sure had a way with the ladies. Shit he could feel his cock stiffening again, to the point where Cori didn't seem to care that his blue eyes were taking in the sight of another, a woman at that. Maybe there was a trace of the curse lingering in his drive after all. He continued to ride the man's seat, slowly first, maybe even to tempt the lady. His own erection hardly lost.
"Fuck," he panted, ready to keep on banging if the woman wasn't going to jump the train before it could pull out of the station.
---
The woman was no stranger to sex, but a one night stand with these two random men? Both of them looked... old. Sort of. One had white hair and was young while the other looked old but his hair was a healthy yellow through and through. She would have smiled to herself about how the older man's hair must have suckled out all of the color from his partner's, but she felt her fingers undoing her clothes on the curse's whim. The question of STDs barely crossed her mind, a silly afterthought.
"That's it, luv, all of it," John groaned, having to wonder when was the last time he had shagged a human bird. "Get all of it off and come fuck with ol' Johnny on the table 'ere."
---
Considering how both of them were subject to John's unique condition Cori was well aware of the risks involved and therefore the one to have it in the back of his mind. Consider it a result of his previous habits in the waking world, but where that other aspect was concerned... He settled on the Englishman's hips, thick and filled, and leaned over to whisper in his ear.
"I'm not giving up my seat," declared the nightmare, for safety purposes and out of a streak of possessiveness. The magician's stubbled face on the other hand was free game.
---
Constantine's lycanthropy had not carried as much of a stigma (if at all) in the City as it would have in the magic communities back in London. Mundane werewolves were locked up in mental institutions. Actual werewolves were quickly dispatched by dedicated hunters if they could not control their condition and Constantine knew a few. Bloody dedicated to their work they were.
The woman eyed the two, feeling better about the man below (old pervert) than the man above. Both were sexy in their own rights so she had little issue with warming up and tending to the more open fellow down there on the table, kissing him curiously. Funny taste. Different from any boy her age.
"Slight case of lycanthropy." John grinned. "Watch the teeth, sweetheart, 'less you want a nice set of yer own."
Fortunately, the woman, silly little Ginger, did not know what that meant, but it had given her a slight edge of apprehension. "What's that?"
"Something you don't want. Now give us a kiss. Kiss like you mean it this time."
---
What a tease, hell that girl looked young enough to be disqualified via trophy rule, but the Corinthian wasn't one to talk. He made sure to keep his shades snug on his face, no need to explain his own sets of teeth, but he was courteous enough to lean back, giving her room to taste the magician's mouth. Who cared for names right now?
"You better get on... before he runs out of steam," said the nightmare to this stranger, tongue wetting his lips. A fair player too, having slowed his grind for the lady to catch up.
---
Get on? Ginger blinked a moment as he pulled up from the stubbly man, crawling up on the table with the two. Well, the white-haired man (an albino?) gave the invitation so she shuffled over, giving Stubbles below a look before straddling his face once they both knew, his arms with those horrible looking scars marking the wrists supporting her. He was going to tickle, she bet, leaving her facing the other man. Slowly she reached for his cock as Stubbles gently played his tongue around her vulva.
---
Yeah get on, let the old pervert have his fun, so long as Constantine's cock was his to please and his alone. The nightmare hadn't been paying close attention when she climbed on, having anticipated her riding his face. What he didn't anticipate were the fingers around his hard-on, not the rough tips that John had, no these fingers were smoother, softer, feminine.
For a moment Cori froze, hips ceasing their fucking. This was.... this wasn't new per se, just rare and unexpected, for a reason at that. But... the old pervert under them was into this wasn't he. After a thought the white-blonde leaned forward to take her left tit into his mouth. One night, once in a while.
---
The sudden deer-in-headlights reaction from Cori had startled John, which in turn had stopped his sampling of Ginger's special. Had she done something wrong? Who knows, she knew she had to be taking some kind of risk if she thought she could fuck with two gay guys, even if they were two gay guys with one inviting her all too eagerly. The feeling of that warm tongue teasing her clit, circling it, was heavenly though.
---
To be accurate they were 3/4 gay weren't they? The Corinthian knew this well and far be it for him to deny John his appetites when he was more than willing to indulge in Cori's. While the magus tasted the slit between her thighs the nightmare cupped her plump breast and bit her nipple. The fact that she was female wasn't on his mind, the fact that making her moan and squeal turned the Englishman on was.
---
"Uaaaa..." Ginger moaned, before, through the rapture going on below, noticing the metal bit brushing her fingers as she stroked and worked the white-haired man's cock. "You're... pierced?"
---
"Nnhn," he sounded around her skin, sucking on it. Be damned if she was going to ask him to put it in her. Fucking the woman's hand was far enough for his taste, and that was comforted by the cock in his ass. Speaking of that dick, John better be having the time of his old man's life.
---
John was. As a matter of fact, it was a nice change of pace to see what he had been missing in his time with Cori, unless Cori could come up with a slit and flower rather than a hole (which he had but was unwilling to share, he remembered). A woman could pleasure him as well as Cori could, although the Corinthian would be hard to top, but pleasuring a woman was different from pleasuring a man. He savored every trickle of her.
Ginger on the other hand was new to the concept of genital piercings. There was no doubt that they existed, but feeling one was another thing entirely. The feeling of teeth on her sensitive nipple was a distraction enough.
---
Don't think any of his decision to indulge in this threesome had anything to do with his denying the magus his rare but possible feminine body. Well, maybe a little of it did... He was male through and through though, born that way, created that way. Any 'flowering' was simply an extension of his job. Being a human male however was debatable... as long as he could adequately satisfy and be satisfied the nightmare had no complaints.
Christ he was letting a woman thumb his piercing, letting her milk the tainted pre-cum out of him. Ginger was safe if she didn't consume any of it and he was close to orgasm. Cori quickened his pace, ass clenched over the Englishman, cock fucking the woman's hand. Sweat beaded across his forehead as he pinched her other nipple.
---
All of them should have been close to orgasm: Constantine had male flings in his lifetime but he had not forgotten how to thrill a bird. He had been with many women in his time and this type he could time his orgasm to, even with a twat-only view; it was how she moaned, how moist she was, how it was flowing to taste (fuck, a regular Niagara Falls at that). Ginger's fingers on the other pumped and palmed. Sweat on flesh glistened in the low light above, its heat almost as intense as the passion that gripped the threesome.
"So close," Ginger whispered, Constantine's hunches correct.
---
Cori rarely ever thrilled a bird, and a good majority of that time was out of nightmare's obligation. John was the expert in this respect and really he could keep the title. He was quite satisfied with his professional ability to thrill cocks. Panting harder now he was close to peaking, body hot, cock tight. His load wasn't for her to keep however, and for her health's sake he took Ginger's wrist away from his member to lick off any traces of pre-cum from her fingers.
---
This had briefly puzzled Ginger (whose sexual experiences had not been so varied or often as the 3/4th gay pair), but not so much as the building feeling towards climax had been, which she pressed against the arms supporting her ass in urgency: faster, faster, faster! The licking had added to it, a pleasing kink she found.
Constantine's hips had pressed against the nightmare's ass. The building sensation of climax had enabled him to keep up with the mounting demands of his female partner, the magus almost threatening to eat her off rather than out. No real chance of infection unless blood was involved at the least.
---
Puzzled but for the better. They didn't have any condoms, that should have been of worthy note to the eyes of a casual sex participant, though by how the white-blonde was pounding against the other's hips who would have noticed they were barebacking. Once the lady's fingers were thoroughly licked clean he turned to suck on her breast again as his hand dared to venture between her thighs, sliding along those wet lips, hers and John's.
---
Perhaps as a test of the nightmare's surprising tolerance, that was all Ginger needed and she flung herself forward, clinging to the nightmare in orgasm. Her head was thrown back, gasping as she throbbed. Constantine only wished he had his dick in there then, but the constant squeeze of an anus combined with its owner's thrusting was all he needed to get off, which he shortly followed after, filling the nightmare with that all too familiar sensation of hot seed he had enjoyed time and time before.
---
What the hell... He was accustomed to the occasional woman throwing herself at him, but in the throes of orgasm? Shit, the nightmare thought to himself, he must really like Constantine. The feeling of hot seed in his ass was more natural to Cori, and he pressed his damp forehead against her chest till he came over John's stomach. He kept his other hand over his cock to minimize staining, but the ropes of white that did land on the Englishman's shirt were rather appealing, both of them clothed and she quite naked.
"Fuck..." the nightmare grunted against her full breasts. His hands were a mess.
---
John was the first one to break the silence as the three of them recovered from their climaxes:
"That was fucking great," he grinned, his face well a mess, resembling a rooting animal. Ginger would have to very gingerly get off of him if he wanted to clean his face up, but he wasn't arguing with the view, his hands having a plump young ass in between them.
"You're... fantastic," gasped Ginger, leaning back, stepping off to allow the Englishman some air. And to clean up. The felt would scent faintly of their excursion and the silly girl would have a story when she rejoined her group, should they not have ditched her. They were still probably going at it. "... Oh, um.
"I think you have names?"
---
He thought about offering quite a few names, Columbo and Vincent Price among them, as if she'd believe it. Anonymity was a valuable thing for both nightmare and magician, but they weren't exactly shrouded in shadows in this city, the angels knew who they were. In either case Cori left that decision up to John while he pulled his ass off the man's cock only to lean forward and lick away her mess from his face.
---
Ginger watched the two men lap at each other's faces as semen dribbled from the other man's anus, the first one speaking: "Guy... on me is Adrian... Adrian Brown. I'm John McMa- Mmmpgh - McMahon. Wassa' lovely bird like you doing here...?"
"Outing," Ginger replied, placing a hand on her chest as she stepped off the table, feeling a bit embarrassed for having given into her carnal desires so easily. "Um, my name is Ginger. Ginger Schnapps. Nice to meet you two."
"You have a hell of a way of sayin' (aahhh) hullo, luv." John's tongue played along Cori's lips in turn.
---
Interesting names, unfamiliar to Cori himself, he assumed John was either in a creative mood or these were some aliases from a bygone era. He continued to slide his tongue across that stubble, delved into the blonde's wet mouth, tasting her in it like a good dirty nightmare. Ginger Schnapps, sounded like a stripper's name or a rather erotic film.
"Thanks," was all the Corinthian said to her, cryptic words but he was the less amiable one to begin with.
---
Ginger bit her lip. "Once in a lifetime," she replied, dressing herself, cheeks hot. She reminded herself that it couldn't be any worse than what had gripped the City, and she was only a victim of its whim. Excuse enough. "Um, I think I should... go now." She did not back away, reaching into a pocket for a scrap of paper and pen, scribbling something as she stood there, half-dressed. The scrap fluttered to the table, a number (the City had phones? Or what?) with her name and a heart.
John did not pay any mind to her when she left with a soft bye, well occupied by his nightmare.
---
So said the etiquette for casual sex with strangers. Two aliases and a phone number, and even the latter could be faked. Who knew if that was Ginger's first or last excursion for the night, though it must have been obvious that the magician and nightmare knew each other. At least she hadn't thrown money on the table, now that would have been a laugh.
Cori continued to lick away her remnants from John's face, savoring the foreign taste with the other's saliva while the semen in his relaxing ass trickled out to make a mess of their pants. "Surprised," he asked.
---
"You did that for me," John replied, tasting his lips, both his and Cori's. The laundry actually being done would be in order after this, especially with the stray semen and musky odor of sex in his clothes.
---
"A little pussy never hurt anybody," Cori remarked. It wasn't his preference to be certain, but hell it made him feel competitively dirty to have to share once in a while. As for the laundry, fortunately green felt was not theirs to disinfect.
---
"Even random voyeur pussy?" smiled the magus. The felt wouldn't be the only thing the poor sods in charge of this joint would be in charge of cleaning.
---
Better a stranger than someone they actually knew, now that would have been terribly awkward. Cori didn't care that he spread the stains on their clothes as he rest on top of Constantine. "Once in a while," he whispered against that smile, "but tomorrow, your ass is mine."
---
John laughed, the grin full of teeth. "Is that a threat?"
---
A laugh, rare and certainly something to savor. He licked the stud in the man's lobe before answering. "Like you mind," said the nightmare with a smile, tip of his tongue gracing the outer shell of his ear.
---
John's hands had trailed back to the nightmare's back, to his ass. "If I did, you wouldn't be on me, mate."
---
"I didn't think so," Cori concurred. He still felt stretched from the lack of adequate lubricant and John's above average size, but it was a good feeling, enough to leave him satiated and somewhat unwilling to even pull his jeans back up.
---
"Let's see you own me arse then," John smirked, giving the nightmare a good grope. "Right now, I have yours."
---
"Nnhh," he sounded from the grope, "you won't even see me coming." The nightmare returned the smirk, and the magus should know, the Corinthian always made good on his promises.
---
"Because it'd be in me arse, right?"
---
"I'm going to keep you guessing on that one," Cori narrowed his teeth eyes slyly.
---
"Go on and try," dared the magus, those eyes just begging for his best effort.
---
"You're on," said the nightmare, accepting the challenge with another bite and suckle to the man's throat. Of course the second round would have to wait, but the Corinthian was patient and the element of surprise, well that would certainly be to his advantage.